


Please, Do Not Hug the Vulcans

by ejejie



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Humans, M/M, Misunderstandings, Vulcans, Vulcans are cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ejejie/pseuds/ejejie
Summary: ...'cause they like their personal space.Or, never let it be said that Zefram Cochrane and S'chn T'gai Solkar didn't like each other. A lot.
Relationships: Zefram Cochrane/Solkar
Comments: 8
Kudos: 84





	Please, Do Not Hug the Vulcans

Sometimes, after he’d had a particularly good or bad day, Zefram Cochrane dreamt. He dreamt he was flying through the stars, ship slicing through the deep, endless black, his companions at his side, faster than humans would ever be able to go in his lifetime. He dreamt of seeing strange new worlds, his companions on one side, his other, more _otherworldly_ friend on his left, at once so alien and yet so _human_. In his dreams he wasn’t bound by the cynicism borne of life on Earth, struggling to stay afloat in a world turned upside down; in his dreams, he was free to go where he wanted, do what he wanted. He was a man with purpose. He was-

“-ake up!”

He was on the floor.

“Lily what- _ow_.” Sitting up too fast while hungover was an action that he knew, he _knew_ would cause pain to explode behind his eyelids. He wasn’t ashamed (well, maybe a little) to admit that he had a vast pool of experience to draw from, in that regard. Knowing something and doing it were two very different things, however. Or rather, knowing _not_ to do something, and doing it anyway.

Cracking his eyes open, he spotted Lily sitting above him– wait, above him? He frowned. _How’d she get up there_? He squinted, vision blurred; when her expression came into focus, he kind of wished the blurriness would come back. His old friend was sat in a chair– _his_ chair, his mind unhelpfully supplied–at a bar. Heavens above, she did not look happy.

Lily was, in fact, not happy. She swiveled her back to him, ignoring his irritable grumbling. “Really, Zee? On a day like this?” When he didn’t reply, no doubt wearing a particularly stupid expression, she sighed. “Vulcans.”

 _That_ got a reaction out of him. He stumbled to his feet, bracing himself on the bar. She stirred her drink, pointedly glancing at Zefram, to the bottles strewn about the floor, to the bright light filtering in from the midday sun outside, and back to Zefram. He had the decency to look sheepish, scratching idly at his neck. “Wha’s goin’ on?”, he slurred out, head still stuffed with hangover-cotton. Rolling her eyes, she took a sip, enjoying the burn of the whiskey down her throat.

“Your _pal_ is dropping by, today. I would’ve thought you’d be more…” She roved an eye over his state of disarray, “…prepared,” she settled on, eyeing the amber liquid in her glass. He furrowed his brow, still squinting at her in confusion, and honestly, _why_ did she befriend him? Surely someone else had worked out warp theory, right?

“Which…one?” Lily pinched the bridge of her nose, briefly entertaining the idea of knocking her drink back in one go and reaching for another. She dismissed it grudgingly, instead reaching both hands up by her ears, extending her index and middle fingers up. At Zefram’s blank look, she sighed again, putting her right hand up and making a split-fingered salute. After a moment he brightened, recognition dawning. “Aha! _Solkar!_ ” He frowned. “What was the first thing supposed to be?”

“Pointy ears,” she groused. “You on first-name basis now?” Despite her irritation, Zefram’s proud smile made her lips twitch. He puffed out his chest and stood up straight, looking for all the world a like a proud mama duck.

“Lils, I befriended an _alien_.” The aura of total _smugness_ he radiated made her snort. To hide a smile she sipped at her drink again. “Solkar _loves_ me.”

“Solkar wouldn’t know you _exist_ without my help,” she countered, picking it up and swirling. Noticing the level of the liquid, she frowned. _Damn_ _. I need to slow down_. Zefram grinned, shooting her finger guns.

“And nobody better forget it.” God, he could be irritating as all hell, but never let it be said he didn’t know how to give a compliment. It was got her hooked into this, his stupid eagerness, and encouragements of her talent with the wrench, and bold statements about how _you and me, Lils, we’re gonna be rolling in dough by the time it’s all said and done_. Of course, neither of them had expected their mutual about-face into altruism and ambassadorship with a _fucking alien race_ , but hey. Through it all, they stuck together. “They better build statues to you, too,” he said, throwing his arms up. She rolled her eyes, resting her chin on her palm, leaning an elbow on the bar.

“I thought you didn’t want a statue?” He turned, still grinning cheekily.

“I don’t. But if I _do_ get one, you better be there too.” She rolled her eyes fondly, and honestly, she shuddered to think of just how many times she’d done that while in his company.

“Yeah. Well, we’ll see how it goes,” she replied, finishing off her drink and slamming the empty glass down with a flourish. “Now. Were you planning on, I dunno, taking a shower?”

“Why’s that?”

She wrinkled her nose, grimacing at the dirt and wrinkles of his coat; though really, that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Everything here was covered in a perpetual layer of grime, a byproduct of being in a shitty encampment in the middle of fucking nowhere. “‘Cause you reek, dumbass. And Solkar’s not gonna want anything to do with you if you go out there looking like _that_.” Zefram spun on a heel, swaggering exaggeratedly to the bar’s entrance.

“Yes, ma’am,” he snarked, sauntering to the door; seeming to reconsider something, he turned back, throwing her a teasing look over his shoulder. “You sure _you’re_ ready? What if he brings some _lady friends?_ “

“Zee. _Out_.”

He laughed, scurrying away before she could throw something at him.

* * *

“See my guy yet?” Lily turned to look at, him, incredulous. They stood next to each other in the clearing, an open space of dirt between the trees and the camp that had become an unofficial meeting place for their delegations. Well, the Vulcans were a delegation; the humans, Zefram thought, were kind of just a bunch of drunk assholes who thought aliens were cool.

“Your _guy?_ ” Sheesh, but she could pack a whole lot of judgment in one word. He shrugged, the motion not producing as much of a headache as earlier. _Good, the hangover’s wearing off. I have a goddamn problem._ “You call him that to his face?”

”‘Course not.” He felt his grin turn devious. “I call him Pointy McPointy Ears.” She rubbed a hand over her mouth, trying to look angry.

“What I wouldn’t give to see you say that out loud. Seriously, you might even get an emotion out of him. Though I’m not sure if you’d live long enough to appreciate it.” Snickers wound through the others around them. Some were part of the ‘delegation’, but others just wanted to observe. He put his hands on his hips, grinning mockingly.

“He’s my main man. My brother from another planet.”

“You are unbelievable.”

“Dr. Cochrane,” familiar, even tones rang out, “I regret to inform you that I am neither a ‘man’ nor am I your brother.” Zefram froze. “As I am Vulcan, it is highly illogical to refer to me as either.” Lily didn’t bother to hide her grin now, one second away from laughing openly at him; Zefram was well aware that she was only held back from doing so by her desire for respectability with their company. Company such as the man- no, _Vulcan_ who had spoken. Turning his head, Zefram spotted him across the clearing.

Solkar led the Vulcans away from where their ship had landed, poised as ever. Involuntarily Zefram grinned, breaking away from the group to speedwalk over to him and ignore the tentatively established precedent for diplomacy with Vulcans that stated ‘do not fucking move first’. He knew he was practically skipping, bounding over gleefully; it was just that he didn’t care. At odds with the rest of his people accompanying him, Solkar immediately strode froward, closing the gap between them with surprising speed.

Without thinking, Zefram stuck his hand out, still grinning like a madman. Solkar slowed, and for a moment he could’ve _sworn_ that the Vulcan’s eartips were tinged green; but just as the color came, so quickly it went. The Vulcan paused, hesitating again; then he reached forward, clasping Zefram’s hand _hard_. And then there it was, again, that weird _thing_ his eyes did the three or so times they’d shaken hands before. Solkar’s pupils dilated wide as moons, their black almost entirely blocking out the deep brown of his irises. And there the other thing was, again, the faint tingling sensation that started in his fingertips and radiated all the way through his palm, into his wrist and forearm. It wasn’t unpleasant; the opposite, actually, the Vulcan’s hand always cool to the touch, the sensation lingering a little longer on the spot on Zefram’s wrist where his index finger pressed.

He kind of wanted to ask what it was, but how was he supposed to phrase that question? _Hey, buddy, whenever we shake hands you look like you just did a line of coke, also my arm falls asleep, so what’s that about?_ He’d resigned himself to likely never knowing the truth. Maybe it was a question future generations would answer. Maybe if they were scientists, or Vulcan biologists, and weren’t emotionally attached to one of the pointy-eared bastards.

Thinking about it, a wave of affection crashed over him; because really, he was friends with an _alien_. A really nice alien. Well, relatively–he wasn’t _exactly_ sure what the others seemed to think of him, inscrutable as they were. Solkar, though, Solkar had been nothing but great since the start. To borrow one of the guy’s phrases, Zefram found him _fascinating_.

And there it was again, the green blush back at Solkar’s eartips. He coughed, politely, really the only time Zefram had ever seen someone make coughing seem dignified–and withdrew his hand, leaving Zefram with that same damn tingling he couldn’t figure out. The Vulcan inclined his head just so.

“I am pleased to see you as well, Dr. Cochrane. It has been far too long.” Zefram grinned, again. Being in his friend's company tended to do that to him.

“I told you, just call me Zefram. And yeah, two months is way too long– wait. How’d you know I was happy to see you?” Solkar’s eartips flushed again, but the Vulcan showed no outward reaction; pointedly, he scrutinized the crinkles at the corners of Zefram’s eyes, the grin that was honestly starting to make his cheeks hurt from how long he’d worn it. “To borrow a phrase from your vernacular, one might say it was a…lucky guess.”

He barked out a surprised laugh, offering Solkar a side-ways smile. The Vulcan blinked, something about his posture telling Zefram he was _pleased_ with himself. That same wave of affection crashed over him, quieting the few logical brain cells he had left that the booze or his life in general hadn't destroyed, and then he was stepping into the Vulcan's personal space.

Solkar's eyes widened, the only other outward sign he was unsure of what was going on a slight stiffening of his spine, his hands remaining clasped behind his back. Zefram, brainless, did not see any signs that Solkar was pulling away; so naturally, he continued his course of action, throwing his arms around the Vulcan as he would any other close friend, pulling him in for a hug. The clearing went quiet, the only noise being the distinct sound of Lily slapping her forehead. Happily embracing his friend, Zefram only belatedly realized that A) the humans had all drawn in a collective breath, B) the Vulcans were openly staring at him, and C) Solkar was not hugging him back. Hesitantly, he began to withdraw, the moments stretching on; but to his surprise, he was swiftly pulled back in. He let out a soft _oof_ at the force of it, and _damn_ , he thought, _Solkar's a lot stronger than he looks_. A pointy ear pressed against his own, cool as his hands against the side of Zefram's head. Solkar's hands shifted to his upper back, just below the shoulder blades, and yeah, okay, it felt good.

"This," Solkar murmured, the vibrations from his voice reverberating softly through Zefram's chest, "Is highly unorthodox." Dimly he registered the human side breathe out collectively. He rested his chin on the Vulcan's shoulder, uneasily aware that the other Vulcans were still staring at them, _harder_.

"That would explain the stares," he muttered, tightening his grip. Solkar released a breath, and for a second he could've sworn he heard _amusement_ in his voice.

"I confess I am... unaware, as to the significance of this type of interaction," Solkar replied, fingertips just grazing the edge of Zefram's shoulder blades. "Though by your general contentment, I assume it is not negative?" He couldn't help the chuckle that shook his shoulders, instinctually bringing his face into Solkar's neck.

"Yeah. A close friends thing," he began, neglecting to mention that it _could_ mean more than that. "You really don't have hugging on Vulcan?"

"Negative," Solkar stated, shifting his arms. "Only between those with familial ties. However, two adults doing so, in public, no less..." He trailed off, not finishing his sentence, and oh, god, Zefram had a dirty enough mind to connect the dots. He felt his face heat, blood rushing into the capillaries and _oh, god, how badly had he screwed this up?_

His thoughts were disrupted by a sudden new addition to the situation: a low, deep rumbling coming from Solkar's chest. Probably, Zefram mused, they'd been hugging a little longer than was absolutely necessary; but then, he likely wouldn't have experienced _this_.

"Are you," he began, incredulous, "Purring?"

"It is a completely normal reaction to a pleasant sensation," Solkar quickly countered; a little _too_ quickly, and Zefram felt himself with that stupid, face-splitting grin again. The Vulcan's purrs had them both vibrating, a couple of idiots just standing in the middle of the clearing. When he finally drew back, he took a look at Solkar's face again. He was still unreadable, except-- green tinged his cheeks, and his eyes were brimming with _something_ , the pupils fully blown. The Vulcan clasped his hands behind his back, coughing again. He was distantly aware of cacophonous chatter from the human side, met with detached fascination from their visitors. Zefram stepped back.

He raised his right hand, splitting his hand into two fingers each side, a move he'd had to practice again and again. "Live long and prosper."

Solkar's brows drew up in surprise. Slowly, he raised his hand in return. "Peace and long life." He heard the sound of footsteps behind him; glancing to his side, he spotted Lily, wearing a peculiar expression on her face. She crossed her arms, elbowing him in the side.

"Ow! What was that-" With a look, she shut him up, and yeah, it was probably best if he did that. Turning to the Vulcans, she offered them a brief smile, gesturing back to the camp.

"Shall we?"

The visiting delegation exchanged brief glances with each other; then, setting their shoulders, they followed her. Zefram turned around, but not before shooting Solkar a quick smile.

He could've sworn he saw him smile back.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love the logical Pointy Bois ok


End file.
